Lillian Huie Lam, retired postal worker and former East Meadow resident, dies at 101
After a car crash at age 14, Lillian Huie Lam reluctantly went back to school, worked in the family restaurant and endured a woman’s scream at the sight of her.
She was the girl without a nose.
“That caused her to be even more shy,” said daughter Gwen Young, of Huntington.
But Lam never complained about hardships and people — she buried her infant daughter and worked three jobs as a divorced mom — instead showing a generosity that went beyond her wages, including keeping a “cramped” home of family immigrants from her native China, those who knew her said.
“I’ve always tried to look at the bright side,” the retired postal worker wrote in an autobiography for a 2011 family reunion. “I’m at the point where I’m living within my means — not owing anyone anything. I just try to be happy with what I have.”
The longtime East Meadow resident died Jan. 3 at age 101, first living the life she had to, then living the way she wanted in retirement, going hula dancing, golfing and gambling because “sure” was her default word, family said.
Some in Nassau’s Chinese American community considered her a pioneer when she passed a Civil Service test for the U.S. Postal Service in 1967 and encouraged others to apply. She retired as an administrative supervisor in 1990.
“In the old days, not that many Chinese people knew English to take the test,” said her friend, Maggie Ng of East Meadow. “The Chinese community always worked in Chinese restaurants with no benefits. She started getting people to work in the post office. … She thinks it’s the best thing that happened to the Chinese community. She never took any credit.”
Born in a village outside of Shanghai, Lam’s birth name was Snow Lotus. She was 7 in 1930 when her father called for the family to join him in Fall River, Massachusetts.
As a little girl, Lillian waited on tables in the family restaurant, watered the bean sprouts, washed the dishes, and made chow mein sandwiches.
During a summer’s drive home from work in 1937 tragedy struck: Her uncle crashed into a pole, sending Lillian hurtling through the windshield and killing her infant sister, Ruth.
The teenager fainted the first time she saw her face in the mirror, she wrote in her autobiography, and facial boils kept developing due to the shattered cartilage and bones. A year later, her nose was reconstructed with bone from her calf by surgeon Varaztad Kazanjian, famous for restoring the faces of disfigured World War I soldiers.
Lam married at 19, a relationship that lasted only a few years, her family said. Forced to work three jobs, the divorcee was home only to sleep for a few hours, change her clothes, go to the next job and teach her 5-year-old daughter how to take care of Gwen, then 2.
In 1954, she married Warren Lam, and the pair moved to Long Island, where they bought a laundromat and eventually their own home.
Over the decades, Lam maintained a Chinese mindset, said Young, a retired editor at Newsday. She made and embroidered her own cheongsams, the Chinese dresses. She celebrated Chinese New Year by eating noodles, symbolizing long life. She listened to her husband and avoided conflict, saying she didn’t tell people when they were wrong or right.
But as a retiree, Lam’s persona was retiring no more. When the couple moved into a retirement community in West Palm Beach, Florida, she wore a pink poodle skirt in a clubhouse performance of “Grease.”. From then on, it was hula dancing, helping retirees do their taxes, proofreading for a local newspaper, traveling abroad and more, her daughter said.
“Lillian had a lot of spunk,” said Paul Schreiber, Young’s husband. “I loved hearing her say ‘Sure!’ for whatever adventures we suggested, like a new restaurant or a casino visit in her wheelchair.”
She told her children she felt her true self came out in her retirement.
“She was somebody who made the best of everything,” Young said. “I didn’t think much of that when I was a kid, but then after I raised my own kid … I really appreciated that whole idea of putting one foot forward and just keep moving.”
Besides her daughter, she is survived by children Nancy Sorensen of Westport, Connecticut, Raymond Lam of Avalon, Connecticut, and Li-Ling Waller of Southwick, Massachusetts; sister Florence Kee of Branchburg, New Jersey; and brother Peter Huie of Franklin, Massachusetts.
A wake will be 10 a.m. to noon on Monday at the A.L. Jacobsen Funeral Home in Huntington Station, followed by burial at Pinelawn Memorial Park in Farmingdale.
After a car crash at age 14, Lillian Huie Lam reluctantly went back to school, worked in the family restaurant and endured a woman’s scream at the sight of her.
She was the girl without a nose.
“That caused her to be even more shy,” said daughter Gwen Young, of Huntington.
But Lam never complained about hardships and people — she buried her infant daughter and worked three jobs as a divorced mom — instead showing a generosity that went beyond her wages, including keeping a “cramped” home of family immigrants from her native China, those who knew her said.
“I’ve always tried to look at the bright side,” the retired postal worker wrote in an autobiography for a 2011 family reunion. “I’m at the point where I’m living within my means — not owing anyone anything. I just try to be happy with what I have.”
The longtime East Meadow resident died Jan. 3 at age 101, first living the life she had to, then living the way she wanted in retirement, going hula dancing, golfing and gambling because “sure” was her default word, family said.
Some in Nassau’s Chinese American community considered her a pioneer when she passed a Civil Service test for the U.S. Postal Service in 1967 and encouraged others to apply. She retired as an administrative supervisor in 1990.
“In the old days, not that many Chinese people knew English to take the test,” said her friend, Maggie Ng of East Meadow. “The Chinese community always worked in Chinese restaurants with no benefits. She started getting people to work in the post office. … She thinks it’s the best thing that happened to the Chinese community. She never took any credit.”
Born in a village outside of Shanghai, Lam’s birth name was Snow Lotus. She was 7 in 1930 when her father called for the family to join him in Fall River, Massachusetts.
As a little girl, Lillian waited on tables in the family restaurant, watered the bean sprouts, washed the dishes, and made chow mein sandwiches.
During a summer’s drive home from work in 1937 tragedy struck: Her uncle crashed into a pole, sending Lillian hurtling through the windshield and killing her infant sister, Ruth.
The teenager fainted the first time she saw her face in the mirror, she wrote in her autobiography, and facial boils kept developing due to the shattered cartilage and bones. A year later, her nose was reconstructed with bone from her calf by surgeon Varaztad Kazanjian, famous for restoring the faces of disfigured World War I soldiers.
Lam married at 19, a relationship that lasted only a few years, her family said. Forced to work three jobs, the divorcee was home only to sleep for a few hours, change her clothes, go to the next job and teach her 5-year-old daughter how to take care of Gwen, then 2.
In 1954, she married Warren Lam, and the pair moved to Long Island, where they bought a laundromat and eventually their own home.
Over the decades, Lam maintained a Chinese mindset, said Young, a retired editor at Newsday. She made and embroidered her own cheongsams, the Chinese dresses. She celebrated Chinese New Year by eating noodles, symbolizing long life. She listened to her husband and avoided conflict, saying she didn’t tell people when they were wrong or right.
But as a retiree, Lam’s persona was retiring no more. When the couple moved into a retirement community in West Palm Beach, Florida, she wore a pink poodle skirt in a clubhouse performance of “Grease.”. From then on, it was hula dancing, helping retirees do their taxes, proofreading for a local newspaper, traveling abroad and more, her daughter said.
“Lillian had a lot of spunk,” said Paul Schreiber, Young’s husband. “I loved hearing her say ‘Sure!’ for whatever adventures we suggested, like a new restaurant or a casino visit in her wheelchair.”
She told her children she felt her true self came out in her retirement.
“She was somebody who made the best of everything,” Young said. “I didn’t think much of that when I was a kid, but then after I raised my own kid … I really appreciated that whole idea of putting one foot forward and just keep moving.”
Besides her daughter, she is survived by children Nancy Sorensen of Westport, Connecticut, Raymond Lam of Avalon, Connecticut, and Li-Ling Waller of Southwick, Massachusetts; sister Florence Kee of Branchburg, New Jersey; and brother Peter Huie of Franklin, Massachusetts.
A wake will be 10 a.m. to noon on Monday at the A.L. Jacobsen Funeral Home in Huntington Station, followed by burial at Pinelawn Memorial Park in Farmingdale.
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